Worthy
by ELF Commando
Summary: Adriaan is only 10, but she's already worrying about not being chosen. When a handsome young Knight comes to teach her Taikaido class for the day, she does her best to impress him; what she doesn't know is that Jacen Palgwebb CAN'T be impressed...


**Hey everyone! A few months earlier I mentioned I wrote two stories about Adriaan in her Padawan days. Some of the incidents in these two stories actually happened to me in real life (though some of it is exaggerated) Anyway, for those of you who haven't read my profile, I am a martial artist, and as both of Adriaan's Padawan stories contain TONS of martial arts sparring, there may be some technical terms readers may not be familiar with. I will try to explain some of the terms here; if you have any other questions, just PM me.**

**As usual, comments and any other form of support are greatly appreciated. For fans of _Galactic War, _I just got back from a weekend trip, and I'm about to go on another vacation next week (I qualified for a taekwondo championship, so I'm going to spend my week fighting kids all across the country! YAY!) but I'm currently editing the final chapter of Part I of _Invader _****(Yes, it turns out book 5 is so long it has to be divided into two parts) and I'll do my best to post it before I go kick some butt (hopefully!) next week.**

**Martial Arts Terms:**

**Chamber - basically, it's tucking/bending your leg for the kick. It can also mean getting your hands into the right position for blocking techniques, etc.**

**Angler Strategy - basically, it's a quick dodge to the side of your opponent's attack; after you angle out of the attack, you come in immediately with a kick into the exposed area of your opponent.**

**King of the Ring Strategy - manipulating your opponent into a corner so that they are no longer given free range of motion and are unable to angle out of your attacks.**

**Flamingo - Hopping forward on one leg while kicking repeatedly with your upraised leg.**

**Machine-gun kicks - kick kick kick kick kick kick kick...pretty self-explanatory. **

**Axe kick - think of it as your foot plunging down on someone's head, much like swinging an axe in a downward motion. My personal favorite kick.**

**Side kick - kicking someone in the chest/abdominal area with the heel of your foot.**

**Out-to-in kick - a head kick performed by swinging the knee forward and across the chest, then swinging the hip while extending the kicking leg outward, striking with the outside edge of the foot. **

**In-to-out kick - a head kick performed by swinging the knee forward and across the chest, then swinging the hip while extending the kicking leg outward, striking with the inside edge of the foot.**

**Tornado kicks and butterfly kicks are a little more complicated to explain, but to draw you a rough picture, they're spinning, airborne kicks.**

**Wikipedia has some pretty good descriptions of the different kicks, if you're still confused. Or you can just PM me. **

**I look forward to hearing what you guys think about these Padawan Adriaan stories! (I'm trying to think of a good name for this collection of short tales; any ideas anyone?) These stories are just to offer you all a little more insight into Adriaan's childhood and her relationship with her own Master. Hope you guys enjoy!**

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"Sluggard alert! Sluggard alert! Undisciplined! Procrastinator! Cretin! Flâneur!"

I rolled out of bed as the alarm announced that it was time to get up in all its fierfeked, anonymous, monotonic, harpy-sounding glory as it vilified me with all the coolness of a politician. As if the sound of a soothing female voice calmly throwing verbal abuse at me to get my lazy butt out of bed made the start of a lousy morning any better. I contemplated this as I rolled over to turn the alarm on "snooze", only to be painfully reminded that the droid didn't have a "snooze" button. I groggily sat up and thought about throwing the alarm against the wall, though the loudness dimmed noticeably when I showed signs of stirring. The alarm was the bane of my existence, programmed for one foul purpose: to destroy any means of proper rest.

Though I had to admit that my possession of the clock droid was not unjustly merited. It had been a "present" from Master Soffron, the Jedi Master who taught my first class, which commenced at 0530 sharp every morning. Prone to spending my nights prowling through the streets of Coruscant, swimming in black fathomless pools, practicing combat moves, finishing homework that I procrastinated completing until the night before I was supposed to turn it in, or – and this was my favorite occupation – stalking the various Masters who sought solace by strolling through the Temple hallways in the middle of the night, it was small wonder I was fashionably late to Rei Soffron's class. Had the first period been anything but astrography, perhaps I would have been more motivated to arrive on time. But as it was, I preferred to kill two mynocks with one stone by sleeping in, so the alarm had been bought and delivered after it was made evident that no amount of janitor duties would change my delinquent ways.

The alarm was programmed to stop sounding once I got off my bed. This I did without further delay. After a cursory examination of my appearance in the mirror, I ran the toothbrush across my teeth, pulled on my boots, and prepared to walk out the door.

"You are not permitted to go to class until your hair is brushed and your clothes presentable," the alarm droid – who also apparently functioned as my mother – warned.

"Why, is someone _special _coming to one of my classes today?" I asked sarcastically. Without bothering to hear the droid's answer, I took out my lightsaber and ran it through the robot's control panel. Thus effectively silencing the mechanical pestilence forever, I took its advice and put on a freshly pressed, black, sleeveless tunic, with matching pants and a belt. I had planned to change anyway; I just hadn't wanted the droid to see me without my clothes on, even if it did have feminine-programming. Pulling my choppy blond hair into a ponytail – neglecting to fix my Padawan braid because I had never bothered to learn how to braid, thinking it a skill meant only for "girly-girls" – I stepped out into the hallway and squeezed in an early morning warmup by jogging to my first class, grabbing a muffin and some fruit on the way.

Astrography passed uneventfully, except for the fact that Darc Chun-be shocked the universe by being granted a failing grade on the test, while Rei Soffron announced – with great reluctance – that I had scored 100%. Apparently, even though I hated astrography, I was a great proficient at it. Darc behaved glumly for our next two periods, but brightened considerably after lunch as our class headed off to the combat arena. Darc paraded under the title of best sparring combatant in the intermediate student division, a title he had only recently taken from me. This fact I attributed to the lack of sleep thereof from the alarm droid Rei Soffron had given me. But no longer – the droid being disposed of, I looked forward to exhibiting my prowess in combat even more fervently than my champion adversary did.

But as we entered the arena, my olfactory senses alerted me to the peculiar circumstances we were plunging headlong into. My nose crinkled at the overpowering stench of exhausted bodies dripping with sweat and – yes, a little blood, too. Then my ears turned my attention to the groans and grunts of half-dead elite students going all out in an effort to complete an exercise.

"Sounds like the advanced class is going through hell," Darc commented as we flung our bags onto the floor and stripped down to our undertunics. I nodded in mute agreement, a knot in my stomach tightening as a particularly anguished moan pierced my ears. Not that I was worried; I loved hard workouts. It was just that I was bewildered the advanced class was having such a hard time. They never seemed to tire. _Must mean Katma's come up with one heck of an exercise, _I thought with eager anticipation.

We walked out onto the tier to observe the class as we waited for ours to begin. At once I noticed that the teacher standing in the center of the room wasn't Katma Malub, a red Twi'lek female who was our regular instructor. The substitute was a human man, with dark skin and hair that was shaved close to his head. He was of medium height, with a naturally slight physique upon which long, sinewy muscles had been built, thereby augmenting his size considerably. I noted all this at once, but seemed most drawn to his eyes, which even from such a great distance emitted a fierce light that was alert and passionate, his piercing stare darting from one end of the room to the next as he observed the students struggling to complete the set of drills he had laid out for them. A smile quirked at the corners of his strong mouth, and I imagined that he enjoyed watching the pain he had caused.

Suddenly his dark gaze zeroed in on my face. For a moment we bridged the space between us, and some deep undercurrent thrilled through me, as if I had just looked upon the shaper of my destiny. Feeling strangely vulnerable, I abruptly I broke eye contact and feigned interest in watching a particularly athletic student struggle to complete a set of chinups. I swallowed, wondering how long he had been on the bar.

Just then a throaty yell pierced the undercurrent of moans and shrieks, and all that moved became instantly motionless. At another command, the students fell to the floor and dragged themselves to their class spots, breaking Taikaido school protocol by using their sleeves to wipe the sweat from their faces. The Jedi Knight didn't seem to notice the breach in class etiquette, instead saying something that I couldn't quite hear before rapidly turning away from the group as they wearily plodded their way out.

"Time to go down," Darc said with some impatience, dragging on my arm.

"No need," an intense, masculine voice said smoothly.

My fellow classmates and I turned as one and gaped at the instructor, who now stood not two meters away from me, though only a few seconds before he had been in the arena below. Without bothering to introduce himself, he jabbed a finger downward. "First one down gets something," he said, jumping off the tier and landing in the ring below. Without even thinking about how far down the drop was, I leaped off after him, ignoring the startled cries of my friends. I landed with scarcely a sound next to the instructor, who turned to look at me with mild scrutiny. After mutely assessing me, he turned away dismissively and said, "You should know by now how to land silently."

I took my place at the front of the class, my face burning with shame. It was quite obvious he wasn't impressed with me. _I'll show him, _I thought, and by the time the others arrived I had regained my cool composure. _Whatever he may think about my "loud" landing, he should at least be impressed that I was the fastest to arrive down here, as well as the only one to jump off the balcony._

The man waited till we were all assembled before turning back to face us. Every one of us stood straight and tall as he paced the room, his eyes scrutinizing us for any flaws in our posture. Finding no one at fault, he stopped in the center and addressed us. "Katma Malub is absent on a mission of high importance," he announced.

Darc raised a timid hand. The man looked irritated but nodded curtly for Chun-be to speak. "Where is she –"

"Not here, obviously," the man snapped. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

Obviously it didn't, for Darc brainlessly continued, "I beg your pardon, Master –oh, I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name…"

The man looked at him with ill-disguised contempt. "My _name, _as any half-intelligent moron knows, is Jedi Knight Jacen Palgwebb. My history and abilities are of no consequence to any of _you. _The only other thing about me that should prove useful to pathetic neophytes such as yourselves is my primary goal in instructing you. My job is _not _to build you up and make you feel good about yourselves."

_Obviously, _I thought, smirking.

"Then what is your job?" Darc inquired.

"To kill you," Jacen finished.

My peers shifted uneasily, but I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth to enlighten Master Jacen with a witty observation. Sadly, he gave me no chance as he clicked his heels together and yelled, "Atten-SHUN!" As we sharpened up, he snapped his fingers and grinned as a row of Jedi Knights appeared behind him, armed to the teeth in light sparring gear and martial arts weapons, from whips to shock staffs.

I hopped into empty-hand fighting stance along with my peers; we took Master Jacen's statement about wanting to kill us very seriously.

Master Palgwebb spent about thirty seconds explaining the rules. He called the game the Jedi Knight Challenge. It was all the assembled Jedi versus the Padawan class in a Taikaido-style armed tournament. Any student who was "killed" – hit in a vital area, such as the chest or head, with a training weapon – in the fight would be given two hundred chinups. In contrast, any Knight who was defeated – like that would ever happen – would get double the chinups and forced to wear a Padawan braid until he had regained his honor. "And because _you," _Jacen added, jabbing a finger at me, "_you _made it down here first, you shall be privileged to fight two Jedi Knights at the same time."

"A splendid reward!" I cried, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You're right; it is," Master Jacen replied evenly. "I pride myself in rewarding instances of reckless daring with a fitting challenge."

_Insufferable man, _I thought, my pulse accelerating as Master Jacen selected two Knights to face me. The duo – one a male Nautolan with an eye patch covering up an empty socket, the other a Zabrak female with mesmerizing yellow ritual tattoos covering every inch of visible skin – circled slowly, almost warily. I knew they were waiting for me to make the first move.

I was never one to initiate a battle; my tactics were purely counteroffensive. I let my opponent move first, then, after I had gauged his or her various weaknesses and strengths, I would go in for the kill. So I did not attack, though I gave the appearance of doing so, jabbing in sharply at one and just as quickly bouncing back on my toes before they could get a free swipe at me. In this way, I herded them around the ring, backing them gradually into the corner, where, without freeness of movement, they would be unable to hold off my attack.

Unfortunately, Jedi Knights aren't so easily manipulated by an intermediate student. Tired of playing cat-and-mouse, the Zabrak came in with a _Koré_ chop feint. Knowing full well that such a move was generally followed by a forehand knife strike, I angled out of her move and shoved my left knee hard into my chest, punching it out at the last moment and hitting her full in the stomach with the heel of my foot. The Zabrak staggered back with a startled grunt but recovered quickly and leaped away, but before I could pursue her, the Nautolan took her place, whirling his stun whip as swiftly as a hurricane. I waited until he was so close I could feel the alternating heat and cool rush of wind as the whip streaked by my bare neck, then I ducked down and swept at his feet with a crescent kick. It was only to find a sparkling, crackling whip coming fairly close to flicking my eye out. As I rolled away, the Zabrak leaped overhead with all the ease of a dancer, withdrawing double shokas from her belt. I deflected the scythe-like implements as she hurled them towards me, but the tip of the Nautolan's whip darted forward and slid across my left shoulder, searing through the fabric and down to the flesh as it cut through. Ignoring the pain in my left arm, I hopped to my feet and backhandspringed away from my attackers, switching my tactics from king of the ring – manipulating my opponent into a trap – to angler as I picked up one of the Zabrak's shokas from the ground with my uninjured hand.

Angler was my forte. I had always been good at interpreting shoulder movement and moving likewise so that the attack barely missed me, then countering with a quick combo from head to chest or from chest to head. The Nautolan and Zabrak weren't exactly the best duo I had ever seen; I had no trouble detecting whenever they sought to surround me. They weren't subtle in their manipulating. The Nautolan was more skilled, but very cautious; the Zabrak was aggressive, but sacrificed an impenetrable defense in exchange for speed and ferocity, and as a result exposed nearly her entire torso to me in the heat of her attack. At last I had found that Knights were not invincible.

Knees coiled like a tense spring, as I had been taught, I waited for the Zabrak to attack. As she advanced, I saw her lift her remaining shoka behind her head slightly, broadcasting which move she was going to execute. I almost seemed to see her make the move before it happened, and dodged to the left as the axe-like weapon curved downward. Now her empty hand was sweeping out; she was trying to catch me in mid-dodge. I brought up my shoka and parried, the strength of the blow nearly shattering the bones in my arm. I broke away despite the shivers going through my limb and swung my leg hard into the Knight's unprotected stomach.

_Thwack! _I re-chambered and spun-hooked her in the head as she doubled over from the stomach kick. _Clunk!_

The girl Knight froze in mid-step, her eyes widening with incredulity, disbelieving that a Padawan had been able to touch her. Then she was set back into motion, falling to the floor and passing out almost instantly. I took no moment to gloat that I had given a Jedi a concussion, as I perceived a flicker of movement in my peripherals. I turned just in time to block an axe kick slashing down on my head.

The impact of the blow nearly sent me to my knees. _Good Force, did Jacen tell these Knights to be so rough? _I pushed against the pull of gravity and stood my ground, side-kicking the Nautolan in the stomach and launching him away from me. He skipped back a few steps, hardly off-balance despite the force of the kick, and bounded back to resume the attack. I did a quick double jab and danced away and to the left, reverse-stepping and keeping a good fighter's position toward my opponent, careful not to square up and to keep moving around him. I danced around to his blind side, and this seemed to irritate him, as he doubled the speed and ferocity of his combos. He had been cautious when the Zabrak had been there, but after I had beaten her he seemed to grow more aggressive, and not wary, as he should have been when he had witnessed my triumph over a Jedi Knight.

The one-eyed Nautolan performed a stunning _shun_, spinning around so quickly he nearly decapitated me. I pranced to the right and executed a _dulon, _a quick midsection slash with the shoka. Then, recalling the technique one should never use when facing a larger, stronger fighter, I hopped forward flamingo-like, machine-gun kicking at his abdomen. The Nautolan faltered, confused at the move I had made, and brought his arm down to jam me up.

He was perplexed because one of the first things taught to Taikaido students was not to use the flamingo technique if you were the smaller fighter. Flamingo was a tall-person stratagem; going machine-gun on a bigger opponent was the equivalent of flying into an asteroid field. Only an idiot would make such an elementary mistake.

But it was not a mistake. It was a new strategy, one I had made up on the fly. With three years of Taikaido experience under my belt, one of the ways I had learned how to win in a sparring bout was to fight unorthodoxly. Fighting by the book was too predictable, and predictable fighters didn't make champions.

And me making what appeared to be an elementary mistake caused the Nautolan to make an unintentional elementary mistake of his own. I had caught him by surprise, and instead of adjusting to the change, he merely stood there on one leg, his other jammed up underneath my own in an effort to keep me immobilized, his arms covering his abdomen protectively. I bounced a little on my base foot, under the pretense of losing my balance, and that seemed to wake him up. He halfheartedly swung at me with a backfist, gauging my reaction. I parried with an upward block, but he seemed to expect that, and kept his arm down to deflect the reverse punch I aimed for his chest. He raised his leg up higher, sending me up on my toes. It was getting a little harder to stay on my one leg now. He was trying to get me to fall.

I played along. I began to ricochet some more, and even dropped my guard stance a little. I brought it up again when he chucked some punching combos on me. He even tried to throw in his scourge, but I didn't much like the thought of getting whip weals on my face, so I grabbed the tip – ignoring the shock that radiated up my arm – and knocked it away. He in turn grabbed the handle of my shoka, and I grimly held on, using it to stabilize myself.

Nautolans really know how to creep me out. Their eyes don't need to blink – I learned this after challenging one of these aliens to a staring contest – and they have this way of grinning that just makes the hair the back of my neck rise. The Nautolan had one of those characteristic smirks on then, his one eye staring at me unblinkingly, as if daring me to engage in another staring contest I was bound to lose. Without warning he pumped his knee up, sending me flying backwards as he let go of the shoka at the same time. I fell back, swinging my left knee up into my chest for an in-to-out chamber, kicking out for his ribs. He blocked the first blow, but I was still flying, and already had my other leg pulled up into a chamber for an out-to-in kick. My left leg came down, my right leg started to extend, the Nautolan prepared to kick me in the gut, but his hands were down, he didn't see my other leg swinging in…

_Thunk!_

The one eye stared unblinkingly, but not creepily. No unsettling smile, the cockiness was gone, replaced by the fear, the pain, the shock, the humiliation. Jedi aren't supposed to be proud of making others lose, but I couldn't help it; I had beaten two Jedi Knights. Why shouldn't I feel some sort of sense of accomplishment? I didn't know any other twelve-year-old girls who were capable of beating two Jedi Knights in Taikaido.

The fact that Jacen had observed the entire fight was the icing off the cake.

"A flamingo and angler counteroffensive_, _eh? Hmmm, employing your techniques creatively…good, good good good." In a harder tone he continued, "That's quite enough now; bow and shake hands."

Both of us did so, dumbly clasping each other's hands. Neither of us quite believed what had happened.

"You little flamingo; think you have wings, do you?" the Nautolan blurted, regaining his wits.

"Do you not know that even the smallest birds are armed with beaks and talons?" I retorted evenly.

"Jacen, I protest the outcome of this match on the grounds that she used unorthodox techniques to defeat us," the Zabrak said, suddenly recovering from her knockout and sitting up on her knees.

Jacen waved his hand at her dismissively. "Are you referring to her using a flamingo strategy on a taller opponent? It is not illegal; it is simply not recommended for shorter fighters. You should not have been caught so by surprise; or at least, you should have adjusted quicker."

"It is outrageous to encourage students to make up their own techniques –"

"I made up the angler strategy before I earned my black belt in martial arts; are you going to criticize me as well?" Master Jacen asked. When neither of the Jedi answered, he grinned and Force-pushed the stun whip and shokas at their faces. To their credit, the Knights caught the weapons, albeit clumsily.

"Master Palgwebb, this girl does not need any more encouragement to be a maverick; she already spends enough time in Rei Soffron's office as it is," the Nautolan said. "Master Yoda shall hear of this."

"Shouldn't you two be busy fixing your "I-was-defeated-by-a-youngling" braids and cranking out your four hundred chinups?" Jacen asked with mock politeness. "There's an empty chinup bar in training room 23A, if you're wondering."

"We are not wondering –"

"Then get off my floor!" he yelled, unceremoniously Force-pushing them off the mat.

The Nautolan and Zabrak scrambled out of sight. I turned in the opposite direction, avoiding Jacen's gaze yet watching at him out of my peripherals, trying to gauge his temper. He said nothing, and his face did the same, but his gaze was boring holes into the backs of the unfortunate Knights whom I had strangely defeated. I stood silent and still in disbelief for about ten seconds more, then I could no longer help it. A grin rose to my face, and I punched the air with my fist, unable to contain my excitement. At twelve, to have defeated not one, but _two_ Knights, and at the same time, too! Such a feat was surely worthy of praise, even from one as stingy as Master Jacen. I met his gaze fearlessly now, no doubt of hearing his astonishment verbalized.

"Why did you deflect the whip instead of angling out of its way, as you were taught?" he said, without even bothering to look in my direction to address me.

I was so shocked I was rendered speechless. _That _was all he had to say about my performance? To dodge stun whip attacks? Of course, I knew about that, but the whip had come down so fast I was forced to deflect it. I had expected praise; instead, he had criticized me for saving my skin! The man was insufferable, pessimistic, insatiable. It was impossible to please him. I stammered out some excuse which Master Jacen paid no heed to, then whirled angrily on my heel and tried to forget about him.

The other matches were finishing up. Much to my gratification, I saw no other Knights who had been defeated. When the results were tallied up, it was announced that only two out of the twenty Knights had been licked, and those two were, of course, the ones I had fought. I smirked as I swaggered back to my class spot, for though Jacen had refrained from voicing his praise, my classmates were not so reserved in their admiration and envy.

Master Palgwebb let out a deep roar, and we all snapped to attention. Everyone besides me gazed at Jacen with glum expressions as he pointed out the various errors we had all made, and what we should do to correct them. Though my pride had been hurt by his criticisms earlier, I listened attentively to him, for the advice he offered was good. Then, as my friends turned reluctantly to the chinup bars, Jacen let out another throaty yell.

"I am in a lenient mood today," he said. I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was like when he was in a bad mood. "So I offer you all a choice; you can crank out your two hundred chinups and be done for the day, or you can all fight Ree, who was the only one to have defeated her Knight."

"_Knights_," I hissed, but luckily he didn't hear me, or chose not to.

Inside, I was seething with a strange mixture of pleasure, rage, and eagerness. On one point, I thought it was an indirect compliment Jacen was paying me by pitting me against my entire class, though on the other hand, I was angry that he was going easy on my classmates in contrast to being so brutal to me. And on top of all that, I looked forward to proving to Jacen my quality. I didn't care that I was tired from the match with the two Knights; my appetite for a challenge overrode my exhaustion. Jacen grudgingly offered me courtesy by asking for my consent to fight nineteen consecutive fights. I readily agreed, withdrawing my lightsaber from my belt.

"No weapons; open-hand Taikaido," Jacen corrected. I shrugged and tossed my lightsaber away. I was the head of my class in the martial art anyway.

The first challenger was a Cathar girl. As she circled me in the ring, I held my ground, conserving my energy. It was already grossly unfair that I had to face nineteen of my peers without a single break between each match, and I didn't want them to grab any more advantages by tiring myself out in the first few bouts. So I bounced gently, keeping my ground in the center of the ring, waiting for the Cathar to come in. She was a naturally aggressive fighter, so she soon lost patience with me and came in with a jumping axe kick. I leaped aside with a butterfly kick, landing – silently, remembering Jacen's earlier complaint – on my feet, from my toes to my heels. She spun around with a hook kick, but I tilted my head to the side and came in, catching her leg on my shoulder and leaping up with pop-up roundhouse kick, whacking her right in the temple. She staggered for a few moments, her eyes defocused, and dropped to one knee.

"Knockout," Jacen said. I exhaled, swinging my arms and legs to keep the blood flowing as I waited for the next opponent to jump in. As a slightly chubby human boy by the name of Kerbren hesitantly jumped in, I wasted no time and shuffled forward menacingly, using his initial timidity to my advantage. A couple of machine-gun punts to keep him occupied, followed by 720 tornado kick to his head, and Kerbren was out. I decided I should try to go for keeping the bouts as short as possible by knocking out my opponents. Unfortunately, after about ten matches the remaining students caught on to my plan and switched up their tactics. When my friend Vati sprang in, she kept at a distance, forcing me to go on the offensive. After a couple of feints, I figured out that her scheme was to tire me out and allow one of my later contenders finish me off. Ever the willing actress, I played along, employing the dynamic Taikaido form of fire, called SamJang. Though I scored ten points off of her, she prevented me from winning by slaughter rule by throwing in a few quick counteroffensive punches. Finally, Jacen called time, and I was left standing in the ring, the first beads of perspiration trickling from my scalp.

Opponent after opponent came in, and I was unable to knock out any of them. I was having to fight full five minute matches now, and my legs were starting to burn. But Jacen was watching me like a hawk, and I didn't dare show any weakness in his presence. So I doubled my efforts, kicking and punching and jumping spiritedly, all with an evil grin on my face, though the smirk was more of a grimace meant to hold in the wheezes which were a clear indication of exhaustion. Finally, the last contestant leaped in.

It was the defending champion, Darc. My chance for revenge had come.

Darc was a good fighter because of his talent, not his smarts. He also rarely employed his knowledge of Taikaido forms in a sparring match, preferring the gracefulness of Jedi forms over the explosiveness of Taikaido. After eighteen contests, I had used basically every technique in Taikaido, so he would naturally expect me to conform to the familiarity of the martial art.

After eighteen fights, I looked a mess. Sweat dripped from my nose onto the faded blue mat, streaked into my eyes and blinded me. Wisps of hair stuck out of my blood-red sparring helmet like rebellious weeds. But I had caught my second wind, and only felt slightly tired. Of course, Darc could only gauge how much energy was in me by my appearance, so he would be expecting me to stick to passive techniques. And I did at the beginning of the match, blocking his attacks, which were mostly punching combos directed in a swinging path, as if he were holding lightsabers. The students on the sidelines were screaming, cheering Darc on. I of course had no supporters, because if I won, they would all have to do two hundred chinups. Darc was their only hope.

"Looks like you're getting tired, Ree!" Jacen taunted. He apparently was one of Darc's supporters, too. "The score is three to two; you're down by one! What happened to your machine-gun kick, flamingo?"

Taunting is meant to make people feel down in the dumps, but it really had quite the reverse effect on me. Jacen's mockery really got the adrenaline flowing again, and spurred me into action. I cartwheeled away from Darc as he aimed an axekick at my head. He anticipated my retreat and pumped forward with a crescent kick. The blow caught me on the jaw, and, my head reeling, I staggered to one knee. Darc pounced on top of me and tried to get me in a guillotine choke, but I elbowed him in the face and rolled away. He grabbed me my the leg and whacked me in the nose. Blinking back tears, I hooked his leg with my own and succeeded in getting him into a kneebar. "Tap out!" I yelled, pulling back on the joint so that I was only a hairsbreadth away from breaking it.

Darc howled and punched the air rebelliously, gritting his teeth in determination not to give in. Jacen yelled, "Ree, no grappling!"

I growled and released my adversary. As soon as he rose, I diverolled under his feet and tried a tornado and butterfly spinning combo on him. He pranced away, on the defensive now. I came at him with machine-gun kicks, but he used a defensive sidekick to keep me away. I did a half backhandspring, stopping in handstand position and swaying as if I had lost the momentum of my leap. Darc came forward with a jumping hook kick, exactly as I had hoped. I waited until his foot came in contact with my back, and then I handspringed up to my feet and leaped up, axe kicking him in the head.

Darc stood for a moment, eyes crossed, then crumpled to the ground.

"Knockout!" Jacen said, sounding surprised.

I stood over my adversary and allowed my respiratory system to heave in much-needed air. My lungs filled, I punched the air and let out a triumphant, wordless roar. I had done it! I had won nineteen matches in a row, without a single break. _Now _Jacen's praise was inevitable. _Now _he would be impressed with me.

He stared at me hard, his face expressionless, taciturn. "Out of the ring," he ordered. I prepared to obey without delay, but he jerked his chin at Darc. "Get that scum off my floor."

_Scum? _I giggled and immediately tried to disguise it with a rather unfeminine snort. Bending down to hide my smile, I threw Darc's limp arm across my shoulders and hauled him up. Though he was about one-and-a-half times my weight and a whole head taller than I, I dragged him off the floor without difficulty and dumped him unceremoniously into the midst of my defeated classmates.

I felt as if two laser beams were boring into my back, and I turned to see Jacen staring intently, almost furiously, at me. "Yes, sir?" I demanded.

"Time!" he snapped.

I checked my chrono hastily. "Two minutes left of class," I said.

"That's plenty for another match," he said smoothly. The other students fell into silence. I stood calmly, trying to hide my labored breathing.

"Okay?" I said, prompting him to go on.

He suddenly peeled off the outer layers of his uniform and leaped into the ring, stepping back into a fighting stance and letting out a martial arts yell as he raised his fists. A finger beckoned to me; I started. Wait, he wanted to fight _me? _Puzzled, the habit of immediately obeying Jedi Knights was so ingrained in me I jumped in without protest. As I raised my fists, he came forward and abruptly yanked my helmet off, pulling out my ponytail as he threw the headgear out of the ring. "Gear off!" he barked. Hastily tying my hair back, I stripped off my gear till all I had left was my black undertunic and leggings, both of which clung to my skin from the moisture of my sweat. Feeling vulnerable and naked, I began to bounce on my toes, keeping a wary eye on the Jedi. With my opponent stripped down to a red muscle shirt and black Taikaido shorts, I could clearly see the well-defined muscle structure of his bare arms and legs. My throat dry, I wiped the back of my hand across my lip and tried to calm the fierce pounding of my heart as the feral tiger circled me.

"You there!" Jacen said, jerking his thumb at Vati. "You will be the judge of this match. The rest of you will stay here and witness the outcome."

"And I'm sure _that_ will be interesting, since we are so equally matched," I remarked caustically.

The man bounced on his toes, his arms swinging wildly at his hips. "You have a lot to learn, little'un," he said.

Then I felt his foot press into my gut. As if in slow motion, I felt my whole body being catapulted backwards, flying across the ring. As I fell, I wondered, _What the heck just happened? How come I didn't see his kick coming? _Despite my confusion, I twisted in midair and somehow managed to keep on my feet, but I remained standing only to have an axe kick clobber me in the head at full power. Lights flashed before my eyes, and I felt my knees hit the floor. But I still did not go down. Placing my right hand on the ground, I struggled up, my brain racing. _Okay, it's fine; just don't go down. Don't let him keep you on the floor. Counteroffensive, girl! Come, on, kick him back! Show him you're not afraid! _I started to chamber for a sidekick, only to find his leg jamming up mine. Irritated, I backfisted and reverse-punched, but his arms were already blocking, too. I stomped my raised foot back to the ground and lifted up the other one for a machine-gun kick, but only got one chamber started before I felt his foot smack me in the face.

Blood streaming from my lip, I started to go down again. Dimly, I heard the startled gasps of my friends, and Vati's disquieted voice as she yelled, "Point!" These sounds were still unable to drown out the voice in my head, which was still roaring at me to get up, to stop being a wimp, to keep going.

I rose.

I pumped a fake axe, then swung out with an out-to-in kick.

Jacen nimbly dodged to the side. I stuck my leg out to push kick him, thinking, _He's going to come in this time; as soon as I put my leg down, he's going to come in, and he's going to get his gut punched through with this kick._ But he didn't come in. I switched from a push kick chamber to a flamingo and tried to entice him to come within range. He still danced beyond my reach. I pumped a hook kick, circled, tried a skip round, but every time he stayed out of the way. Finally, I placed my right foot down and brought my left leg up to the front.

_Whack!_

Right in the temple. Gone were the exterior sounds. Gone was the sound of my own breathing, the beating of my heart. Gone was the inner voice. I went down like a log, and did not get up. My body would not obey. I had died.

"Master Palgwebb, eight points. Ree, zero. Palgwebb wins by knockout rule," Vati shouted.

"And this class period is finished. Looks like none of you won't have time for those chinups after all," Jacen remarked silkily. "Dismissed. Oh, you there! Get this scum off the floor!" I numbly felt a bare foot nudge me in the back.

And that sprang me back into consciousness. No one called me scum without being challenged. With a cry of rage, I staggered to my feet and threw a tornado kick at Jacen. My foot came in contact with his head, and I whooped triumphantly, but my cry of victory was cut off by a startled yelp as Jacen swept my legs out from under me and I was left sprawled on my back.

"Ree!" Vati yelled.

"_Dismissed," _Jacen repeated firmly. My classmates fell silent, torn between their fear of Jacen, and their concern for a fellow-classmate. The habit of obeying a Jedi Knight inveterated within their brainwashed intellects, they soon made up their minds, and I heard the sound of nineteen pairs of footsteps receding into the distance. The classroom was so quiet now all I could hear was the sound of someone breathing really fast and erratically, going, "Ah, ah, ah, ah" as if he was trying really hard not to cry. Then I realized the person was me. Thinking myself alone, I dared to raise my head.

I put it back down. Master Palgwebb was still there, standing over me, his face almost gloating.

"Up!" he said, unceremoniously kicking me in the small of my back.

I rose vehemently and sat back on my heels. "Proud to have beaten a little ten-year-old girl?" I spat, spittle and blood trickling from my split lip from the forcefulness of my words.

Jacen Force-pulled a bench from the other end of the room and straddled it, crossing his hands behind his head. "Who is this all about? You or me?" he asked.

I hesitated, wondering why he was asking. "Me, I suppose," I said finally.

He nodded. "So if this is about you, was the purpose of my fighting you to make _me _feel good about myself?"

"No," I answered sullenly.

"Right. The purpose was not to boost my ego, but to crush _yours," _he said.

"What do you mean, ego?" I demanded. "I'm ten years old and no Jedi Master has even _glanced _at me. I'm good at Taikaido, I have a good connection to the Force, I'm smart, but those are my only assets. What have I got to be conceited about? Maybe it's a little early for me to be worried about being Chosen, but I mean, come on, who would want to Apprentice a kid who's labeled as some –"

"Dark side freak?" Jacen finished.

I started. "See? It's not like it's some clandestine secret I'm hiding; everyone knows. No Jedi would want to train a dark Force adept. Too risky."

"Not likely any _good _Jedi would want to, but not all Jedi are good."

"_Yess,_" I said slowly, wondering what he was driving at. "But I would _want _to have a good Jedi as a Master. Otherwise what's the point of even being here?"

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on some invisible object in the ceiling. "What do you mean by a 'good' Jedi?" he said finally. "Do you mean 'good' as in ethical, or good as in 'skilled'?"

I frowned. "A mixture of both, I suppose."

"You suppose." He withdrew his lightsaber hilt and began to casually twirl it in his hand. "Ree, have you ever asked yourself why you came here?"

"Well, of course I know why I came here," I said, shifting uncomfortably. "My mother brought me here to be raised as a Jedi."

He stopped twirling the lightsaber and leaned forward. "Do you remember any of that, or did someone tell you?" he asked with a strange eagerness.

I hesitated. I wasn't quite sure myself. Sometimes when I walked past the main doors of the Temple I would get flashbacks of memories, just tiny little snippets of an experience long gone – the soft blue cloth of a tunic, muffling my face in a curtain of inky black hair, the scent of a certain brand of shampoo – but the visions were too faded, too vague, that I almost thought they were merely figments of my imagination, images my brain invented to help me visualize the day I was brought here. But how could I explain that to this feral tiger who had cornered me? Did I even want to reveal such tiny and precious memories to a man I had only met a few hours ago yet completely abhorred?

"I was told," I said flatly.

He sat back lazily, almost without blinking an eye. "So you're just here because you're fulfilling someone else's dream? You're not here for any motives of your own?"

"Well, no, not really…" I struggled to formulate my feelings clearly. Why did I stay here, anyway? "I'm kind of used to this place…it's really the only place I can call home. I have no idea what the galaxy out there is like. Would the rest of the universe welcome me with open arms if I left this sanctuary? Besides, there are thousands of teachers here whom I can learn from; so much knowledge, so many skills here that I could learn…"

"So you're here for the training?" he prompted.

"Yes," I admitted. "But of course I care about moral principles. It's just that –"

"It's not your first priority?"

"It's good for me," I said stiffly. "I am a born evil, and my only hope is that the Jedi can reform me."

Jacen rose and moved closer till he was just inches from me, and I had to tilt my head up and look at him. "They say that you are a sith child; someone who has natural tendencies to the dark side, someone who focuses on the wrong things, who forms and breaks attachments on a mere whim. But that is only what _others _say: do _you _feel evil, Ree?"

That got me thinking. Everyone had always told me that I was a dark side adept, that I was always going to have more trouble than the other students, but did I actually agree with them? It had never before crossed my mind; I had always just accepted it as one of those faults I had which only others noticed, which I didn't really see myself, but I still needed to be aware of and try to correct. But sometimes I felt what they were saying was true; a few moments ago, I felt I had actually wanted to kill Master Palgwebb. It wasn't just a passing fantasy, I was seriously thinking about the most effective way of disposing of him. But now that my feelings were cooled, I no longer felt the same driving passion to destroy the invincible menace tormenting me. Was I really that fickle, swinging from one mood to the next?

I knew I wasn't perfect, but I didn't always feel the destructive urge to fall to the dark side and bring the entire universe under my domination. Perhaps the heart of the issue was that I was just too _focused. _Of course, I was not one of those people who were just so serious and determined they had no room for a sense of humor. Humor I had aplenty. I was the most dreaded Padawan in the Jedi Temple due to the fantastic pranks I pulled. But when it boiled down to the more serious matters of training and preparation, nothing, absolutely nothing would dare get in my way. If an opponent scored a single hit on me, I would be furious at myself, inwardly berate my slowness and inexperience. I was mad that Jacen, a great Jedi Knight with at least a decade of experience under his belt, had defeated me in approximately thirty seconds. I didn't blame him for winning; I blamed myself for losing.

"Not particularly," I said. "I mean, sure I have those dark moments where I just want to, uh, kill the people who are in my way, but I'm not any more imperfect than the next person, I guess."

Jacen raised his hand, and I jumped back into a fighting stance, alarmed. He stepped back and dropped his arm, shaking his head. "That's your problem," he said. "You think everything has to be a struggle. Everything's a competition, a battle you have to win. You're too serious."

"I'm not serious!" I cried. "I'm the cleverest prankster on Coruscant!"

"Exactly. Notice how you said, 'the cleverest' as if you had somehow joined a prank competition and won that title. Let's just pretend for a moment that one of your peers surpassed you in pranks – that last boy you fought, for example – would you be content just to be second-best?"

"I would flood all the refreshers on the Jedi Knights' floor and scream that our plumbing system is infested with dianogas," I declared.

He shook his head. "Ree, what do you hope to accomplish by being the cleverest prankster in the galaxy? You think someone is going to come over and hand you a big, shiny medal and throw you a parade?"

"I don't care what anyone else thinks of me; they've already let me know," I snarled. "All I care about is proving to _myself _that I'm not a failure."

"If only that were true," he said. He whirled on his heels and strode for the door.

I hurried after him and snagged him by the arm. "What do you mean by that?" I demanded.

"Oh, nothing you should worry about," he said airily. "Except that you don't have as good of a sabacc face as you seem to think."

I frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I could tell by the look on your face that you pulled all those crazy stunts just to impress me," he said. "So sorry to tell you that you didn't. That last kid you fought, though – sure, he lost, but he has enough natural skill to be worth my attention. The thing with him is that there's room for improvement; you, however, are at a dead end. I don't think you can get much better."

He turned his back again and walked out, chuckling. My face burning, I lifted up my left leg, ripped off my boot, and hurled it at him full force. The shoe hit him in the back with a resounding _clunk _which echoed throughout the entire gym.

Jacen turned slowly to face me. I knew I was doing something crazy, and yet I felt as cool as an icicle as I looked him straight in the eye and said, "A real Jedi Knight would have sensed the boot and caught it in time."

He stood very still for a moment, then lowered his bag. "You're going to regret saying that," he said. I stood my ground, unflinching, as he charged forward and attacked. I threw out a punch before he reached me, but he dove for my feet and knocked me flat on my back. As I twisted and turned, trying to get to my feet, he mounted on top of me and grabbed me by the neck. Recalling the grappling exercises I had been taught earlier in the year, I wrapped my arms around his waist and fell back hard against the floor, pulling him down with me. I moved my arms up to his shoulders and pulled myself up so that we were face-to-face, then hooked my arm in on the inside of his right armpit and brought my other arm around his back, lacing my fingers together. With a mighty heave, I tossed him off me and got on top of him, but he wrapped his legs around my waist so that I couldn't stand up. I lunged forward, swinging at his face with my fists, but he grabbed my hands and held them down, rolling himself so that he was back on top of me. I spun over onto my stomach and started to pound him in the head with my feet, but his arm wrapped around my neck and pulled my head up so that I was forced to look up into his eyes, which were shining gleefully. I glared and went limp on him, trying to get him to loosen his grip. Even though I was strong for my age, no ten-year-old girl is a match for a grown man.

"Well?" he said, when I had been still for a few moments. I put on my best sabacc face and made no reply. "Say sorry and I'll let you go."

I was silent. His other hand went down to my belt and fished out my comlink. I heard his fingers punching in the numbers, and the crackle of speakers as the other end came through. "Rei Soffron, this is Jacen Palgwebb. Tell Ree's teachers that she will be absent from her classes today…possibly for a week. It depends on how stubborn she is. No, she does not require a medical droid; not yet, anyway. Yes, I'm – what's the euphemism? – _taking care _of her. Bye."

He flipped the comlink off and tossed it away. "Still not apologetic, are you?" he asked. "Ree, do you _really _want to play this game with me? Because I assure you, as competitive as you are, I'm more so. And I've got all the odds on my side. Unless you want to see me in beast mode, you should give up."

I was stoic in my defiance. Jacen sighed. "I should have guessed," he said. "Well, let's see how you react to nerve pinches." He grabbed my leg and felt for the nerve near the knee cap. "Where is it? Ah, here…" He gripped the skin between two fingers and pulled it up, twisting it together and releasing suddenly. I felt a sharp pain in my leg, but it wasn't tormenting enough for me to react. Master Palgwebb watched me intently for a moment, then asked, "Did that hurt?" I allowed myself a terse shake of the head. Jacen's face registered a little surprise, but it passed quickly as his fingers sought the nerve cluster at the back of my neck. "How about here?" Another sharp pinch, but again, nothing seriously painful. I shook my head. "Here?" The Achilles' tendon; that one didn't hurt at all, but it felt a little strange, and made my stomach squirm. He grabbed my toe and pulled it all the way back against the joint. Still no response. He tried my fingers, with little success.

"My friends call me 'Rubber band' for a reason," I explained complacently. I had always been flexible, and over the years had developed my talent until I could've had a career as a contortionist, if I had wanted to. Very few nerve pinches and controlling self-defense techniques worked on me.

"Rubber band or not, you're still taking it back," he said, grabbing my ponytail and yanking on it, wrenching my head back as far as it could go.

Right then I wished I had gotten a crew cut, as Darc had once dared me to do. Nerve pinches and joint pulling might have had no effect on me, but the hair pulling was my limit. Tears streaming from my eyes as thousands of knives pierced my skull, I gasped out, "Sorry!" and was immediately released. Rubbing my scalp, I sat up on my knees and glared ferociously at Jacen through my tears. "You're no Jedi; you're just a bully!" I screamed.

He looked at me calmly, secure in his self-confidence. "No, I'm not a bully. I warned you I was going to hurt you if you didn't obey, so you could have avoided this if only you weren't so kriffing stupid. Whatever you may think, I am a Jedi Knight, and you are a youngling, and you owe me prompt obedience and respect. Are we clear on that?"

I nodded dully.

He brushed his palms on his pants and rose smoothly. "Now…that last kid you fought. What was his name?"

"Darc," I said automatically.

There was a pause that went on for so long that I looked up into the Knight's face. Jacen was staring at me, as if trying to gauge my mood. "He's rather good," he said finally. "One of the most talented kids I've seen in a while. I would watch out for him if I were you."

He loped lithely out of the room, leaving me crouching on the mat, tears streaming down my cheeks. My fists clenched, and in a rage I suddenly leaped up and screamed, punching the air as if it were Master Palgwebb's face.

Then, without even bothering to towel off or gather my gear, I stalked off in search of an empty weight-training facility. I didn't care that I was half-dead from exhaustion, because I knew I would get no rest, for even though I had completed the Knight Challenge, another, greater problem had been presented to me, and I would find no solace until I had proven to Jacen that I _was _worthy of attention, that I _was _capable of improving. That I _was _worthy to be his Apprentice.

That, despite my dark side points, I was capable of becoming the greatest Knight the galaxy had ever known.


End file.
